I don't get it.

I don't get it.


What is this supposed to be? A Texas Two-Step? Practice walking like a peg-legged pirate? Imitating my hunched-over, stiff-legged limp in the morning? (You would limp, too, if after a long day of baby wrangling you had to sleep on the little sliver of mattress space Carmen allows me.) This video was taken yesterday.

Yesterday I also found out that Carmen doesn't like ketchup. What toddler doesn't like ketchup? I don't get it. But that's okay. She's not missing much.

David signed his first sentence-phrase the other day, "water more." He still doesn't say much, though day before yesterday he started saying "book" like Carmen: "buh" and then signing book. Sometimes he smacks his lips together for emphasis. Smack, smack, "buh," smack, smack, book. He doesn't call me Mama but has mastered stamping and saying "mamamamamamamamamamamamama" with his arms outstretched, so a name for me may finally be imminent. (Carmen just calls me "hi.")

I almost forgot that he did say a David-version of "orange" today, while he signed it. "Orn," he said, sounding at first a little surprised that what he said did, indeed, sound like a word. "Orn."

You know, oranges don't rock David to sleep, tickle him again when he asks for more, nurse him when he's hungry, buy him top-of-the-line wooden toys from Germany, or cuddle him when the scary trash truck passes by. What about saying Mommy, Mama, Ma, HEY, YOU?

I don't get it.

But that's okay. I'll wait.